


your kiss is cosmic

by smilebackwards



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, MayThe4th Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-15 23:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18679120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilebackwards/pseuds/smilebackwards
Summary: The new general stepped off the docking ramp and raised his head to look over the troopers of the 212th waiting at attention. General Kenobi’s eyes were blue Cody noted distantly as something deep in his chest rang clear and sonorous as a bell.





	your kiss is cosmic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



“Heard you’re getting a new Jedi general,” Rex said over the holo.

Cody nodded. He’d only received the news this morning but he wasn’t surprised that Rex already had it too. Gossip moved faster than blaster shots in a war. “General Venat is on indefinite medical leave due to his injuries from Malastare. General Kenobi will be arriving shortly to replace him.”

Rex gave a low whistle. “Kenobi, huh? He was General Skywalker’s Master.”

“What does he say about him?” Cody asked. He’d take it with a grain of Corellian salt until he met Kenobi himself but it was always useful to get intelligence from outside sources.

“One minute Skywalker talks about him like Kenobi’s his best friend, a paragon of Jedi virtues, a marvel with a lightsaber. The next he’s cold and overly critical.” Rex shrugged. “I suppose he could be all those things. You’ll have to tell me what you think.”

Cody nodded. “I will. Cody out.”

Striding down the halls of the _Negotiator_ , Cody palmed open the quarters set aside for the general. Waxer and Boil had done a good job outfitting them. Everything was neat and tidy. The bedcovers were sharply cornered. A ration bar was set in the middle of the pillow the way a fancy hotel might have set a chocolate. Cody left it there. Hopefully General Kenobi would have a sense of humor. General Venat hadn’t been known for humor.

Cody circumnavigated the ship one last time. The armory was stocked and inventoried. The infirmary was squared away. The barracks were as close to clean as they ever got. Cody was confident the 212th would make a good first impression.

His comm beeped. “New general’s ship is inbound, sir,” Wooley said. “On duty troopers are getting lined up in the hangar to greet him.”

Cody expected there would be plenty of off duty troopers there as well. No one wanted to miss the first glimpse of the new general. “Acknowledged. On my way.”

Ten minutes later, a one-man shuttle glided into the hangar and set down gently. Armor clanked as troopers jostled lightly for a better vantage. Cody cleared his throat and everyone settled into stillness as the shuttle ramp lowered.

The new general stepped off the docking ramp and raised his head to look over the troopers of the 212th waiting at attention. General Kenobi’s eyes were blue Cody noted distantly as something deep in his chest rang clear and sonorous as a bell.

 _Runiriduur_ , Cody thought, sucking in a breath.

Jango had told Cody’s batch stories, back when they were freshly decanted and stories were still allowed. “It’s your history too,” Jango had said, about the bounties and battles and family anecdotes—all the memories they didn’t carry with them.

There had been half a dozen variations of _runiriduur_ stories, archetypes of famed couples and sweeping epics that Jango had been told too as a boy, but Cody’s favorite story had gone like this: Jango’s—Cody’s—great-great-grandmother had met his great-great-grandfather on the field of battle. They’d been on the same side, thankfully, and when they’d met eyes it had felt like a key turning in a lock. Heedless of the falling bombs and blaster shots, they’d walked toward each other as if they were in a dream until their hands clasped and their lips met in a kiss.

 _Kriff_ , Cody thought, this sure as hell wasn’t going to go the same way for him. His _runiriduur_ was his commanding officer and a Jedi to boot. Jedi weren’t allowed to have attachments.

But Kenobi _was_ staring at Cody, perplexed. His right hand hovered over his chest, fingertips brushing over his heart.

Cody pushed his shoulders back and willed his feet not to move. He looked away, glancing over his brothers, suddenly terrified that they’d all feel the same, that Kenobi wasn’t just Cody’s _runiriduur_. But no one looked as pole-axed as Cody felt and Sabaccface to Cody’s left had gotten his name as an irony. If Cody couldn’t see it on his face, he didn’t feel anything.

“Hello,” Kenobi said. He wasn’t shouting but somehow his voice projected to every corner of the hangar, dulcet and genial. “Thank you for taking the time to come greet me. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi and it is my honor to have been granted command of the 212th. I’ve heard high praise of your battalion’s skill and bravery.”

There were a few cheers from the men and Kenobi smiled. Cody wondered who’d praised the 212th to him. He doubted it was General Venat.

“I hope to meet you all individually soon but please feel free to return to your duties for now,” Kenobi said.

Cody’s duty as commander was to greet the general personally and give him the credit tour. He steeled himself as he stepped forward, bucket under his arm. Kriff, Kenobi was even more beautiful close up. The blue of his eyes that Cody had noted even from a distance was shocking in closer proximity and his hair shone like burnished copper under the hard overhead lights. He wasn’t wearing any armor. Cody would need to fix that.

“Sir,” Cody said, the title tasting strange and incorrect in his mouth, “I’m CC-2224, Commander Cody, at your disposal.”

Kenobi gave a fractional wince. Disposal might not have been the best choice of word, for all its unwelcome truth. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Cody,” Kenobi said. His hand was hovering over his heart again.

They were going to have to have a conversation about this, although preferably not in the hangar. “I can show you to your quarters first and then bring you around the ship,” Cody offered.

“That would be wonderful. Let me just get my things.” Kenobi walked back up the shuttle ramp and returned with a small rucksack and an armful of datapads. Cody held out his arms to take the datapads. “Oh, thank you,” Kenobi said.

Cody tried to glance at the datapads unobtrusively. The one on top was on, turned to page 114 of what looked like a Jedi training manual. Beneath half a page of text was a moving diagram of a figure with two fingers pointing outward on one hand and the other holding a lightsaber diagonally over their head. It didn’t look like a stance Cody had ever seen other Jedi generals use.

When they reached the general’s quarters, Cody set the datapads gently on the desk. Kenobi had put his rucksack down on the bed and was looking at the ration bar on his pillow with his lips quirked up. Cody would have to tell Waxer and Boil it had been well received.

“Sir, are you feeling all right?” Cody asked, unsure how to broach the subject. He put his hand over his heart in mimic of the action Kenobi had made earlier. As a Jedi, Kenobi would have been raised on Coruscant. He’d probably never even heard of the Mandalorian stories of _runiriduurs._

Kenobi sat down on the bed and smiled wanly. “In all honesty, I’ve felt rather odd since I landed. Like my heart wants to beat out of my chest, but with no apparent reasoning.”

“This may sound strange,” Cody prefaced, “but on Mandalore there are stories of something called—”

“ _Runiriduurs_ ,” Kenobi whispered, his eyes sharpening.

“You’ve heard of it,” Cody said, surprised.

Kenobi nodded. “When I was a Padawan, my Master and I were given the task of protecting Duchess Satine of Mandalore. We were there almost a year. She told me many stories, but I thought that’s all they were.” His eyes were luminous. “And yet, when I look at you, I feel that I’ve known you always.”

Cody sat beside him on the bed and reached hesitantly for Kenobi’s hand. A wash of contentment flowed through him. It was as if he’d been in pain all his life and never realized it until it had suddenly disappeared.

“What a gift,” Kenobi said quietly, closing his eyes as he closed his fingers around Cody’s hand. He didn’t sound bitter, but neither did he look happy. “Cody, I’m not sure how to proceed. If I remember Satine’s story, Kythia and Rion married and things worked out perfectly well for them, but I’d be expelled from the Jedi Order. And you—what would happen to you, Cody?”

Things had worked out for Cody’s great-great-grandparents too. Cody wanted, for once in his quick-grown life, for things to be simple. He should be celebrating his good fortune with his brothers, a perfect cosmic match delivered right to his doorstep. “They’d recall me to Kamino for reprogramming.” And if the mind-wipe didn’t work, he’d be one more defective clone shuffled into the trash heap.

Kenobi squeezed Cody’s hand. “What do you want to do?”

Cody wanted to call him _cyar’ika_ instead of sir. He wanted to hear all the moments of Kenobi’s life that he’d missed up til now. He wanted them to grow old together. 

But it was doubtful they’d grow old at all with the war on. Hundreds of men died every day; Cody had seen the numbers. “May I?” he said, instead, and saw Kenobi understand him perfectly.

“Yes,” he answered, leaning forward and waiting for Cody to meet him halfway.

Cody cupped Kenobi’s jaw in his hand and traced a high cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. Then he leaned forward until their lips met in a kiss. If there had been bombs and blaster shots, Cody would have forgotten them too in that moment. Kenobi’s lips were soft as satin. 

When he leaned, reluctantly, away, Cody felt all his cares sit a little lighter on his shoulders. “Thank you, sir,” he said, for want of better words.

“I think, my dear,” Kenobi said, his smile soft and no longer tremulous, “that you ought to call me Obi-Wan.”

 

  


Duty made them decamp from Obi-Wan’s quarters shortly after, but Cody anticipated seeing them again that evening and often in the future. His steps were light as he showed Obi-Wan the ship from tip to stern with only a slight detour into a maintenance lift for another brief and breathless kiss.

It was several hours after the traditional latemeal shifts and the mess hall was largely empty when they entered. Only Waxer and Boil were at one of the tables, drinking steaming cups of caff. Cody led Obi-Wan over to meet them.

Boil saw them approaching and nudged Waxer in the side. They made to stand and salute but Obi-Wan neatly removed the formal necessity by sitting down beside them. 

“General Kenobi,” Cody said, because he couldn’t well say Obi-Wan in front of the men, “this is Waxer and Boil. They kitted out your quarters.”

“And very kindly left me a ration bar,” Obi-Wan noted. “Thank you, gentlemen. It was even my favorite flavor.” 

Waxer’s mouth opened silently and he looked like he was trying to find a way to politely mention that there was only one flavor. Then he caught the glint in Obi-Wan’s eye that had accompanied his deadpan delivery. “He made a joke,” Waxer squawked, looking over to Boil in incredulity. “Boil, they gave us a Jedi that can make jokes!” 

“Goodness,” Obi-Wan said, smiling now, “are we really considered so dour? I shall endeavor to remedy the perception.”

“Tell us another joke,” Waxer encouraged.

“Would an anecdote suffice?” Obi-Wan asked. He cupped his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps the time Anakin and I, for the sake of diplomacy you understand, were required to participate in the ceremonial wet tunics challenge on Orthon.”

“Perhaps we should continue the tour for the moment,” Cody said, giving Waxer a mildly quelling look. Occasional informality was all well and good but he didn’t intend to encourage it as the norm.

“Certainly. I’ll think on my best stories for when we meet again,” Obi-Wan said easily to Waxer before transferring his smile to Cody. “I believe the infirmary was next? I was given strict instructions by Healer Che to locate it early and ingratiate myself to the medics.”

Cody didn’t particularly like what that implied about Obi-Wan’s tendency to injury but he took the opening, steering Obi-Wan out of the mess hall. There would be time later, when they undressed for bed, to check the pale expanses of Obi-Wan’s skin for scars and hurts.

Sawbones, like any good medic, tried to do it for him. “You should really let me do a full physical, sir,” he said as Obi-Wan danced away from his probing hands. 

“I assure you I was fully cleared by Healer Che only two days ago,” Obi-Wan promised. “My records should be made available to you in the database shortly.” He slipped up a sleeve to reveal a bandage, slightly pink with creeping blood and clearly needing to be redressed, to Cody and Sawbones’ appalled eyes. “Although, in good faith, I do currently suffer this one very minor injury if I could trouble you for some clean bandages.”

Sawbones pushed him down to sit on a gurney and called over one of the other medics despite Obi-Wan’s protests that he was perfectly capable of rebandaging himself and they needn’t spare him any of their time.

While Obi-Wan was distracted, Sawbones pulled Cody aside. “I got special requisition orders from the Jedi Healers,” he told Cody, slapping his datapad with the back of his hand. “That’s _three times_ as much bacta as would be set aside for a normal humanoid male.” He looked over at Obi-Wan doubtfully. “Do you think he’s a poor fighter?” 

Cody felt himself bristle at the implied insult to his _runiriduur._ Jedi were trained warriors almost from birth and the datapad with the lightsaber forms that Obi-Wan had brought onboard hadn’t looked remedial.

“I suppose I’ll know more once they release his records to me,” Sawbones said. 

Cody replied, a little stiffly, “I’ll make sure he has the proper armor and shipboard training checks.” 

Obi-Wan, bandaging finished, swept over to extract Cody from the conversation and flee the med bay. “Tick has patched me quite admirably,” he said, showing the clean white bandage around his forearm. There was a packet of extra gauze in his hand.

“Take two pain capsules and call me in the morning,” Sawbones called after them sardonically.

Obi-Wan yawned, covering it politely with a hand. “Forgive me. The lightspeed lag appears to have caught up to me.”

“We can continue tomorrow,” Cody assured him. They hadn’t received any orders to action, only the slow, ponderous trip to relieve the _Resolute_ at the blockade over Felucia. 

Rex would surely have some thoughts on Cody’s new situation when they arrived. Cody didn’t intend to keep his _runiriduur_ a secret from his brother, but it wasn’t something to be trusted over holo, encrypted or no.

“Thank you, Cody,” Obi-Wan said, resting his hand lightly in the crook of Cody’s elbow in subtle invitation. Cody put his hand over top, a warm press, and Obi-Wan smiled. He led the way back to his quarters unerringly and Cody felt a swell of gratification. He’d known new men to get turned around on _Acclamator_ -class ships let alone a _Venator_ -class of the _Negotiator’s_ size.

Obi-Wan palmed open the door and Cody followed in behind him. There was none of the awkwardness of new lovers when Obi-Wan stripped Cody of his armor or when Cody bore him down onto his back on the bed. 

“If it were peacetime, I would not hesitate,” Obi-Wan sighed, later, stroking Cody’s cheek as they lay curled together like mirrored curves, searching out each others scars. Obi-Wan had paid careful attention to the scar above Cody’s eye, brushing it with delicate kisses. “But to leave the Order—the Army—now…”

Cody didn’t even have the luxury of choice. To leave would be desertion at best. “We can keep it secret.” They could try to balance both worlds until the war ended or death did them part. 

Obi-Wan gave a pained smile. “We won’t be the first.”

“I assume you mean General Skywalker and Senator Amidala.”

Obi-Wan groaned. “Hardly a secret then. Goodness, does everyone know?” 

“They’re not subtle,” Cody said. He’d seen the way they looked at each other and stood too close, the stumble to use proper titles when they had the intimacy of first names. It would be a struggle they shared now. “We’ll do better.”

“It would be a risk to tell Anakin, for all that I love him dearly as a brother,” Obi-Wan said. “I suppose he thought the same of me, which is why he never told me about Padme.”

“Surely he wouldn’t betray us when he’s guilty of the same form of attachment,” Cody said. It was mutually assured destruction, with no type of gain on either side.

Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. “No, the risk I think is only in how happy he would be to know that I truly understood and that I wouldn’t betray him in turn. I fear it would make him less careful even than he is now. There’s little I can do to protect him save keeping his secret—both our secrets—from the Council. And the consequences to you would be far greater than Anakin or I being expelled from the Order or any political loss of face Padme might suffer. Is there anyone you would trust so far to tell?”

“Yes,” Cody said, thinking of his brother’s stalwart heart. “Rex would protect our secret to the grave.”

 

  


Obi-Wan passed all the required ship-serving competency tests Cody was obliged to put him through over the next week with flying colors. He could put on an evac suit in under twenty seconds, pilot an escape pod, and even Longshot had looked with approval on his marksmanship score. But it was lightsaber skills that had long captured the imagination of the clones and when he and Cody finished the conditioning assessments in the gym and Obi-Wan moved to pick up his saber, all interest focused on him immediately.

Obi-Wan ignited a blue blade and moved fluidly through a series of warm up stances similar to the ones Cody had seen General Venat practice. Then he lept into a series of dizzying acrobatics, blade flashing almost faster than Cody could follow with the naked eye. A few troopers had put their buckets on and were probably making use of the motion slowing feature.

All the while, more troopers were filing in, in ones and twos, in poorly feigned nonchalance. The gym packed almost full to capacity and there was probably a feed going out to the rest of the ship.

Obi-Wan had switched to facing a remote, shooting low-powered lasers at random intervals for him to deflect with his lightsaber. It was less showy than the acrobatics but the troopers watched it even more avidly. Blaster deflection was one of the most valued skills in any general at the head of an advance. When Obi-Wan powered down his lightsaber after several minutes, having missed perhaps one shot, there was a feeling of good cheer throughout the room. 

“Please forgive my missteps,” Obi-Wan said, coming back to Cody and wiping sweat off his neck with a towel. “I assure you that you haven’t been given a defective Jedi with poor lightsaber skills.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Cody said. It had looked stunning as all hells to him and entirely dispelled any doubts about Obi-Wan’s skill.

Obi-Wan gave him a smile like Cody had just said something extraordinarily kind. “The Ataru style I trained in doesn’t appear particularly suited to the battlefield strategies I’ve discussed with some of the other generals. I’m brushing up on my Soresu.”

“I’m sure we’ll appreciate it when the next battle comes,” Cody said.

Obi-Wan’s smile dimmed. “I hope it will be of some use. I expect Felucia won’t remain a sleepy blockade for much longer.”

Cody had wondered. As flagships, the _Negotiator_ and the _Resolute_ were more often aimed as the tip of the spear than used as a deterrent. “We should be there in a few hours,” Cody said.

“Well, then I suppose we ought to shower and make ourselves presentable,” Obi-Wan said, pushing a fall of sweaty hair back off his forehead.

“Yes,” Cody said, throat gone suddenly dry.

 

  


When they docked with the _Resolute_ three hours later, they were entirely presentable. Fastidious even Rex’s air gesture of tweaking a bow tie implied, although he added a wink so Cody would know he was only teasing. Cody rolled his eyes back. The 212th gave their armor a thorough polish every week, war permitting. General Skywalker and Rex ran things with a bit less ceremony than Cody was accustomed to.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said warmly. “It’s good to see you. I believe you’ve already met Commander Cody.” 

General Skywalker was staring at Obi-Wan like he’d never seen him before. “You got him to wear armor,” he said to Cody. “How?”

“It was a battle,” Cody said, although in honesty it hadn’t been much of one. Cody had prepared as if it might be. He’d had a set of armor in Obi-Wan’s size put aside and Gregor had painted it carefully with the Open Circle, a customization Cody knew Obi-Wan would take note of and understand for the gesture of fraternity that it was.

Still, “Armor, Cody?” Obi-Wan had said, wincing. His fingers traced the red outline of the Open Circle regretfully. “I need to be able to move without restriction.”

“Please,” Cody had said, simply, and Obi-Wan’s hand had ghosted over his unprotected heart in a now familiar gesture.

“All right,” Obi-Wan had said quietly. “May we compromise on the chest plate and arm guards?”

Cody had wanted him in full plate and a bucket, but he’d compromised. A chest plate and arm guards were better than nothing.

“Oh yes,” Obi-Wan said to Skywalker, wryly. “Because, of the two of us, surely _I_ have always been the most reckless.”

“You said it, not me, Master,” Skywalker grinned. He waved Rex forward. “This is Captain Rex.”

Obi-Wan glanced sidelong at Cody and Cody nodded subtly; Captain Rex was indeed his batchmate Rex. “A pleasure to meet you, Captain Rex.”

“Just Rex is fine, sir,” Rex said. “We’re not much on formality here.”

“And where is my grandpadawan?” Obi-Wan asked, looking around in vain for Commander Tano.

“Stars, Master, you’d barely recognize her if she were here,” Anakin groaned. “She’s growing like a Kendolian weed.”

“The mess hall, then?” Obi-Wan said with a smile behind his eyes. “Come, take me to see her. We can have tea. And I’m sure Cody would like to catch up with Rex and his brothers in the 501st,” he added, glancing at Cody to check that he had no objection to the plans.

Cody nodded. “Yes, general.” 

It was strangely hard to watch Obi-Wan walk away from him, despite knowing that they were in no danger, among friends. He saw Obi-Wan make an abortive gesture with his hand, reaching for his absently for his heart. They hadn’t been further apart than a few meters perhaps since they’d met, Cody thought suddenly. That certainly couldn’t have been expected to continue forever.

“Cody,” Rex was saying, like he might have said it several times already. “Cody, are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Cody said, snapping back to the moment. “Fine. Sorry.”

“Well,” Rex prompted. He knocked a fist against Cody’s shoulder armor. “What do you think of your new general? You promised me details and then all I got from you was radio silence for a week.”

They were alone in the hangar. Cody still hadn’t thought of a softer way to approach the topic than he had with Obi-Wan. “He’s my _runiriduur_ ,” he said. 

Rex stared at him. “Your...Kark.” He closed his mouth, clearly struggling with what to say. “Congratulations?”

“Thank you,” Cody said. They deserved to have people say that. It was a gift despite all the complications that came with it. “But you’re right to think it’s not an unmixed blessing. No one can know.”

Rex crossed his heart over his armor. “You always liked those stories,” he said quietly.

“Yes,” Cody agreed, low. When he’d asked for them enough times to be noticable, Rex had started asking too, even though he’d preferred the stories about battles. “Maybe part of me always knew he was out there.”

Rex put an arm around Cody’s shoulders and pulled him close.

 

  


Felucia remained a blockade for approximately two days after the _Negotiator_ arrived. Then it all went to Sith hells. The Separatists broke through the left flank and the battle was joined on the ground with the 212th at the front line.

The gentle humor and prudent strategy of General Kenobi in the operations room on the _Negotiator_ had not prepared Cody for General Kenobi on the battlefield.

This, Cody thought as he watched Obi-Wan leap onto the top of an enemy tank and start carving it open with his lightsaber as if it were a can of Alderaanian nectars, perhaps, explained what General Skywalker had meant when he’d patted Cody solidly on the shoulder and said, “Good luck with him.” 

“Cover the general,” Cody ordered and a hard rain of blaster shots fired over top Obi-Wan’s shoulders to guard him while his lightsaber was occupied.

“Thank you!” Obi-Wan called down. He completed the circle with his lightsaber and the top hatch of the tank fell away. Obi-Wan made an upward gesture with his hand and the two clankers piloting fell bleating to the ground after it.

Obi-Wan disappeared into the innards of the tank and Cody turned to focus his fire on the line of clankers approaching, twelve deep. 

“Cannons!” someone shouted, just before the earth in front of him exploded.

Cody stared up at the pale blue of the sky. There was a ringing noise in his ears. When he lifted his hands to try to muffle the sound he realized his bucket had been blown clean off. His fingers came away tacky with blood.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan was hovering over him, his face terrified. His hand was on Cody’s cheek. “Cody,” Obi-Wan said, and his voice sounded distorted and distant, like an echo through a tunnel. “Cody, hold on. Hold— 

 

  


Cody woke slowly, disoriented. He was still on his back, but the surface beneath him was now soft cotton instead of the harsh, gritty sand of Felucia. For a moment, he thought he’d been given morphine, the peaceful, floating sensation artificial and induced, then he realized Obi-Wan was holding his hand, no gloves, skin to skin. Obi-Wan’s head was bowed and his eyes were closed, lashes dark against the pallor of his face. 

Cody felt a momentary flash of panic through the peace. Surely they weren’t in the infirmary, where anyone might see? 

Glancing to his left, Cody saw his standard issue desk and footlocker and let himself relax. They were in his quarters. He’d barely visited them since Obi-Wan had arrived on the _Negotiator_ , only to pick up his spare blacks. He’d appropriated Obi-Wan’s toothbrush and various other sundries without thought.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan said, his voice rough. His eyes were open now, bright and relieved. 

Cody squeezed his hand. “Still here. The battle?” 

“We held the position,” Obi-Wan said. “I suppose that should be counted a victory.” He put his free hand on Cody’s forehead, a cool, comforting weight. “How do you feel? You took quite a blow.”

Cody hitched himself painfully up into a sitting position. He could feel the ache of bruises all down his back but the ringing in his ears had gone. “I’m fine.”

Obi-Wan gave him a deservedly dubious look but let it lie. 

Cody was shocked to find that Obi-Wan wasn’t laid up in a bed beside him. At the start of the advance, Obi-Wan had put a hand on Cody’s shoulder and gently moved Cody behind him. “Time for me to put my Soresu to the test,” he’d said, igniting his saber. His eyes had been as bright and fierce as his blade. Cody had looked at him and thought _I can’t lose him_ and known only how easily he could.

Cody abruptly gave Obi-Wan’s hand a powerful tug, toppling him forward into Cody’s arms. This war could go on for years. They might have decades or days. He was going to take every moment he could get.

  


**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] Your Kiss is Cosmic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21159728) by [knight_tracer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knight_tracer/pseuds/knight_tracer)




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